Chapter 8: What a Coincidence—Far Too Many

If you were to talk about coincidences, there were just way too many of them.

Same flight, same hotel, same floor.

Shen Jingsong held her room card against the sensor, with her assistant Xiao Chen following behind her.

She faced this way and read out the room number: “2107.”

Xia Zhuxi had just swiped open the door to room 2108.

“What a coincidence.” This was the fourth time Shen Jingsong had said those words today.

Xia Zhuxi cleared her throat. “Yeah.” She looked away.

A few days earlier, a small Weibo account had privately messaged her, claiming to be Shen Jingsong’s manager Betty, thanking her for the audition for Eight Voices of Ganzhou.

At first, Xia Zhuxi thought it was a scammer, but since no one besides Shen Jingsong, Guo You, and herself should know about the audition, and she didn’t dare take any chances with anything involving Shen Jingsong, the two of them chatted for a bit. After verifying her identity, Xia Zhuxi added Betty on WeChat.

Everything after that was simple—coincidence manufacturing at its finest.

Xia Zhuxi thought Betty had a pretty big heart for a celebrity manager. As long as it didn’t involve business secrets or personal privacy, Betty answered almost every question. In the end, she even asked if she could send a signed helmet…

Sure, send it.

Her partner in coincidence manufacturing.

“Well, I’ll head in and unpack first. We’ve got a match the day after tomorrow.” Xia Zhuxi pushed open the door, and the hotel’s signature aromatic scent wafted out.

Shen Jingsong asked, “Want to grab dinner together?”

Her voice was soft.

Xia Zhuxi had already planned to eat barbecue with her teammates, but she answered without thinking: “Sure.”

Shen Jingsong smiled faintly. “It’s on me.”

Shen Jingsong added, “Liu Lin spicy hot pot.”

Liu Lin was by the sea, but the west side was humid and muggy from the mountains, so people there ate fresh flavors as well as spicy ones.

Xiao Chen chimed in, “Right, Teacher Shen is from Liu Lin.”

Shen Jingsong nodded. “Yeah, I know all the good spots around here.”

But Xia Zhuxi said, “I want red sour soup.”

Red sour soup was from the neighboring province to Liu Lin, but since they were so close, people from Liu Lin ate it often too.

Shen Jingsong agreed readily. “Sure thing.” She looked at Xia Zhuxi with a hint of apology in her eyes. “I thought you liked spicy hot pot.”

Xia Zhuxi replied, “Gotta try the local specialties, right?”

They settled on a time and headed back to their rooms to freshen up.

Xia Zhuxi sent a “sorry” emoji to the Southern Championship group chat, then dropped a big red envelope in the group with the note: For flaking on barbecue.

The room was a business suite with two bedrooms. Shen Jingsong had booked it to make it easier for her assistant to look after her, while Xia Zhuxi had done so for the sake of their “coincidence.”

She sat on the living room’s plush sofa, thinking about what Shen Jingsong had just said.

The one who loved spicy hot pot was Pei Ziying.

Back home, only Pei Ziying loved spicy food—she’d been that way since she was little.

When Shen Jingsong visited their county town hometown, the family often made spicy dishes, and they frequently went out for spicy hot pot, so Shen Jingsong probably assumed the whole family loved spice.

Xia Zhuxi could handle spice, but she didn’t love it. Shen Jingsong, on the other hand, couldn’t handle it at all.

There was that one time Pei Ziying dragged Xia Zhuxi and Shen Jingsong to an insanely spicy hot pot place. Midway through, when Pei Ziying stepped away to the bathroom, Xia Zhuxi saw Shen Jingsong secretly chugging ice water and then slipping out to the patio area under a tree, where she coughed until she threw up. When Pei Ziying came back, Shen Jingsong pretended nothing was wrong and kept eating.

That incident killed any fondness Xia Zhuxi had for spicy hot pot.

Why would Shen Jingsong hurt herself like that when she couldn’t handle spice?

She didn’t have to! If she didn’t like it, she should just say so! What made Xia Zhuxi even angrier was that Pei Ziying didn’t care or even notice—her girlfriend…

Even now, Xia Zhuxi still fumed at the memory.

The aftermath of that hot pot meal ended with Xia Zhuxi, under the accusation of being picky despite being able to handle spice, arguing with Pei Ziying until they switched to clear broth rice noodles.

Shen Jingsong liked sour and sweet flavors.

Xia Zhuxi had discovered that because whenever they went to the supermarket before, Shen Jingsong would always grab a pack or two of plums or hawthorn berries. One time, at the checkout, she’d picked up a bottle of preserved tangerine peel candy, shook it to make that rustling sound, and asked Xia Zhuxi: Immortal elixir, eternal youth—want one?

Xia Zhuxi had only eaten one from that bottle to try it, then taken it back to Shengjing at the start of school and kept it by her bed. Two years later, past its expiration, Xia Jie threw it out while cleaning.

Shen Jingsong had also once raved to Xia Zhuxi about how fresh and appetizing red sour soup was, but that was casual chit-chat from nine years ago—Shen Jingsong had long forgotten it.

Xia Zhuxi remembered.

*

Liu Lin was different from Shengjing.

Both were lively, but Shengjing’s energy was intricate and overwhelming, while Liu Lin’s was flashy and vibrant.

The red sour soup was a cheerful color, bubbling away, and the cooked dishes came out tangy and aromatic.

After Xia Zhuxi finished her first bowl, Shen Jingsong ladled her another one. It felt just like that summer nine years ago, when Shen Jingsong would refill her rice, save the chicken drumstick for her, and peel oranges into neat segments. Xia Zhuxi’s cheeks would end up smeared with juice, and Shen Jingsong would gently wipe them clean with a napkin.

“Xiao Xi.”

Xia Zhuxi looked up. Shen Jingsong handed her a napkin, unable to hold back a smile as she pointed at her own mouth.

Xia Zhuxi glanced in the mirror and spotted a bit of soup dangling from her lip. She hurriedly wiped it away.

The restaurant was a courtyard-style establishment that served only one table of guests each day.

They sat in the central courtyard, trying to count the stars, but the clouds were too thick to make them out clearly.

Still, the stars from that night were the prettiest. Xia Zhuxi sighed to herself.

Thank you, stars.

For leaving behind that night’s Shen Jingsong.

After dinner, they headed back to the hotel.

The night streets were ablaze with lights from countless stalls and vendors. Even after full dark, people strolled about leisurely.

Shen Jingsong hadn’t brought her assistant along. Xia Zhuxi drove while Shen Jingsong asked, “Did you enjoy the meal?”

Xia Zhuxi eased the steering wheel around a turn. “It was great.”

She stole glances in the rearview mirror, her eyes lingering on Shen Jingsong’s reflection. A gentle breeze toyed with Shen Jingsong’s dark hair, casting sharp contrasts of light and shadow across her lovely features.

Streetlights mingled with the glow of night market stalls, blurring into a soft haze. Seated in the passenger seat, Shen Jingsong cracked her window lower, allowing the wind to waft in the tantalizing scents of street food. She asked again, “How was Liu Lin?”

“Particularly good,” Xia Zhuxi replied.

Shen Jingsong turned toward her, eyebrows arching softly.

“You too,” she said tenderly.

The light ahead turned green, and Xia Zhuxi glided through the intersection, the car feeling as if it floated on clouds—light and buoyant.

Shen Jingsong went on, “Thank you for the engagement banquet and the audition.”

Xia Zhuxi gathered her thoughts. “You’re welcome.”

With an audition the next day, Shen Jingsong needed all the luck she could get, so Xia Zhuxi gave her a slender red cord strung with a small sandalwood bead. A closer look revealed a carving of a big-tailed squirrel on the bead.

Shen Jingsong slipped it onto her wrist. “What’s this?”

“A charm for victory,” Xia Zhuxi said.

Shen Jingsong waved her hand, admiring it. “Do you have one for your race?”

Xia Zhuxi nodded. “I do.”

“Wow, then it must really work. I’ll wear it all day long.”

Mm.

All day~

Xia Zhuxi lounged on the sofa, watching a replay of a car race, when she heard a commotion outside. She opened her door and saw that room 2107 across the hall stood ajar.

The housekeeping manager was saying, “We’re truly sorry, ma’am. We’ll upgrade you to a better room right away.”

Xiao Chen’s face was stern. “This is a five-star hotel, and you couldn’t even check the shower beforehand? Upgrading us doesn’t make it all better. We have to pack up and move everything—do the math on the trouble you’ve caused.”

Shen Jingsong’s voice drifted out from inside the suite, calm and unhurried. “It’s fine, Xiao Chen. They didn’t do it on purpose. And we don’t have much luggage anyway.”

Xiao Chen turned. “But Teacher Shen, we’ll have to inspect the new room all over again.” Just in case of hidden cameras or the like—Betty had stressed extra vigilance on every trip.

The housekeeping manager chimed in, “We’re so sorry! Let us handle the luggage.”

Shen Jingsong was switching rooms?

Xia Zhuxi hurried over. “Is it just the shower that’s out?”

Hearing her voice, Shen Jingsong stepped into the living room. Xia Zhuxi caught sight of her and paused, her tone dropping. “If you don’t mind… you can use mine to shower.”

The housekeeping manager discreetly withdrew from the room, stationing herself a short distance away.

Xiao Chen bowed her head, glancing around, suddenly feeling like an intruder. She retreated to a corner to quietly tally their belongings.

Lights glowed from every corner, and a faint cedar fragrance hung softly in the air.

Shen Jingsong’s deep, luminous eyes met Xia Zhuxi’s as she glided forward, her skirt hem fluttering around her pale calves like rippling waves.

Xia Zhuxi watched her approach, breathing out slowly.

Shen Jingsong halted inches away, the tips of their shoes a half-arm’s length apart.

“Can I?” she asked.

“You can do whatever you like,” Xia Zhuxi answered.

Tonight, someone longed to be disturbed.